


Catch Me (As I Fall)

by LadyKF



Series: Inspire!Reeve for Traxits [3]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Gen, Gift Fic, Inspire!Reeve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-06 10:01:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11598297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyKF/pseuds/LadyKF
Summary: Odin, he had to say it, didn't he? He hadn't even talked about it to his own mother, a secret he'd kept to himself his whole life.When disaster strikes, Reeve's secret is finally revealed.





	Catch Me (As I Fall)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Traxits](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Traxits/gifts).



> **Prompt:** Literally anything with the Turks, Rufus, and/or Reeve.
> 
> I borrowed a great deal of Traxits' headcanons when fleshing this out. Again, this carries the premise that Reeve is an Inspire. Notes in detail can be found at the bottom.

"And I told him, frankly, I couldn't care less," Rufus raised his glass, swirling the wine and watching light play through it before taking a sip. He glanced back at Reeve with a sly little smile. "And then I left."

"Would that every meeting ended on such a high note," Tseng said dryly.

"Ah, were you there?" Reeve guessed, tsking lightly as the Turk rolled his eyes. "Of course you were."

"Of course," Tseng agreed, turning a little to watch Reeve as he checked the oven. "The food is nearly ready?"

"Needs just a little longer, another ten minutes," Reeve said. Of course, he knew that already - lasagna wasn't an unpredictable meal that  _needed_  monitoring. But he had yet to meet a Turk who didn't appreciate a periodic check, especially if they'd come straight off duty. And their leader was  _always_  on duty. "Well I'm afraid I don't have anything near so interesting to regale you with, myself. Things have been quiet."

"I  _like_  when things have been quiet," Tseng said. "Rookies wish for excitement on the job. I've learned better."

"Well yes, excitement in  _your_  line of work is not exactly what anyone wants to hear," Reeve agreed, coming back to join them in the living room. "May you always have boring days."

"I'll take it," Tseng said. "Rufus can have the interesting times for us."

"'May you live in interesting times' is a Turk's curse, is it?" Rufus shook his head. "I'll take the challenge."

"It's a conditional curse," Tseng corrected. "Depending on what you do.  _You_  may well enjoy it. I think you'd get bored without a challenge now and then."

"And when I get bored,  _your_  life gets interesting." Rufus' smile was shameless, and more charming than either of them would have admitted. "Poor Tseng."

"I like to think I manage just fine," Tseng said mildly. He'd certainly had long enough to grow into the position.

"There's no one else I'd rather have at my back," Rufus said quietly, his smile softening to something warm and fond.

It was hard to say when, exactly, 'business dinners' had lost their professional edge and become more intimate gatherings. When the roles of  _director_  and  _vice president_  and  _Turk_ had routinely been left at the door - as much as any of them ever could. Or perhaps that's what it was. The understanding of three men who barely  _had_  a line between who they were and what they did. Reeve supposed it didn't matter, really. These moments were some of his favorites. Oh, certainly, he did relish seeing Tseng and Rufus at the top of their game, sharp and fierce and ever professional, but these quiet moments behind closed doors were  _cherished._

"Still with us, Reeve?" Rufus asked, glancing at him.

"Always." He took up his own wineglass, forgotten on the coffee table when he'd gone to check the food, and took a drink. None of them had had more than a glass yet, and he certainly didn't intend to get more than a pleasant looseness, taking advantage of the alcohol just enough to shake off the day. Even a quiet day was still busy in Urban Development. Always something to do. But if he was doing it  _right,_  no one else would notice. "I suppose work tries to follow me home now and then."

"Tsk, none of that," Rufus said. "Leave your business at the tower."

"The whole city is my business," Reeve pointed out, a little smile on his lips.

"Mine as well, but I don't think it would begrudge you a few hours without fuss," Rufus said.

"Perhaps he needs a distraction," Tseng said.

"Oh?" Reeve arched a brow, smile widening. "And did you have an idea?"

Tseng hummed, uncrossing his legs and setting down his wineglass. "I might be able to think of a few things."

Rufus straightened a little from his comfortable sprawl, looking at him with interest. "Now that's promising. What —"

_PAIN._

It came on so suddenly that Reeve barely had time to process, wine glass slipping from numb fingers and shattering on the floor. Dimly he heard his name called, just before a deafening roar drowned out everything else. His vision whited out, excruciating pain like nothing he'd ever felt tearing through him, searing along his nerves and choking him as he tried desperately to catch his breath. Nothing existed but the white hot pain crushing his chest, driving the air from his lungs and spiraling to a dizzying peak.

"— _eve?_ "

Unable to respond, Reeve curled in on himself with a muted cry, heat prickling over his skin like a sudden fever. His eyes were shut tight, tears leaking from the corners as he took in great gasps of air, fighting to regain control. To understand what was happening before it could completely incapacitate him. The second the pain was finally bearable, realization made a nauseating sweep through him.

_The reactor._

Odin's lance, he'd just lost a reactor.

"Reeve!" Rufus' voice cut through the fog, the closest he'd ever heard him to panic. "Snap out of it!"

Reeve sucked in a breath, prying open heavy eyes that were blurred with tears. Clumsily, he swiped at them, dragging in another deep breath and coughing as his chest seized again, pain washing through him. "I - I  _can't_ …"

"Yes you can." Tseng, then, calm even in the face of a meltdown. "Just breathe."

" _Trying,_ " he rasped, choking a little on the sudden overwhelming scent of mako, thick enough he could taste it on his tongue. Phantom sensations, but knowing that wasn't enough to stop it. The pain from the reactor's death continued to wash over him, backlash from the snapped bond sending him reeling. He couldn't catch his breath. Couldn't think beyond a constant cycle of panic as his mind scrabbled to find any hint of the warm pulse where Reactor No. 1 had been.

Nothing.

The reactor was gone. Utterly destroyed.

He felt a hand on his cheek, cool against feverish skin, and blinked rapidly to try and refocus. Colored blurs slowly resolved into Tseng, the Turk looking at him with tense sobriety. "I need you to breathe, Reeve."

He made a tight, strangled sound, unable to articulate through his distress. But Tseng started counting for him, and he tried to match his breathing to it. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.  _Inhale_  — "I have to go."

"Like hell you do," Rufus snapped.

"Not yet." Tseng's voice was gentler, his hand still cupping Reeve's cheek, a single anchor as the world spun. "Not until you stabilize."

Reeve closed his eyes, rubbing away the sticky feeling of tears with shaking hands. "Tseng, please —"

"You can't even walk to the car like this," Tseng said quietly.

"Can we get him to the sofa?" Rufus asked. "He needs to lie down."

"I don't know that it's wise for him to move," Tseng said, watching Reeve closely.

Reeve looked away, licking his lips. If he breathed deeply enough, he could still catch a hint of the vaguely citrusy scent of mako, and his chest  _burned._  It burned through to his arms and down to his hands, pins and needles down to his fingertips. Truth be told, as much as he knew he  _needed_ to be at work, he wasn't sure he could move so far as the couch without being sick. "…maybe not."

"Mm." No crowing after it, no 'I was right' or pointed retort. He suspected Tseng would have preferred being wrong. "Just catch your breath. Do you think you could sip a little water?"

Reeve grimaced, swallowing thickly. "Maybe?"

"I'll be right back," Tseng said quietly, getting up. "And I'll get something to clean up with."

Reeve nodded, blowing out a breath and staring at the ceiling. Better than looking at Rufus, who was still trying to stare him down. ' _I'll be fine'_  was on the tip of his tongue, reflexively, but he knew better than to say it. Tseng would take it, even if he didn't believe it. Rufus would flat out call him on it and demand explanations he couldn't give.

What was he supposed to say?

His phone ringing cut into the silence, and he reached for it with unsteady hands. A deep breath to steady himself, shoulders set, and he answered. "Chelle?"

" _Reeve, we've lost Reactor Number One,_ " Chelle reported, no time spared for pleasantries. " _It looks like there was a bombing, it took it out completely and part of the sector is on fire._ "

"I'll be there as soon as I can," he said, managing to sound far more stable than he felt. "Deploy everyone you can for damage control. See if you can get people in the air to assess the damages, and people on the ground to work evacuations. I'll speak to the president about getting troops to clear the area and run security."

" _You got it._ "

Reeve took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. His voice was even, the calmness he knew his people relied on. "I'll be there soon."

" _Alright, see you then._ "

He hung up just in time for Tseng's phone to go off in the kitchen.

"Report." Tseng's expression lost any of the warmth it had had when he was trying to calm Reeve, the mantle of leader of the Turks falling back on his shoulders as he listened, Reno's voice just barely audible. "I'll escort Director Tuesti personally. See what you can find out about them. They wouldn't be the first copycats we've dealt with."

Reeve waited out the call, watching the tell-tale tightening of Tseng's jaw, the slight flare of his nostrils on an angry breath. "What did he say?"

"Rumor is this is AVALANCHE's doing," Tseng said, snapping his phone closed as he returned, water in hand.

"AVALANCHE was disbanded with the death of their leaders," Rufus said.

"Hence my suspicion of copycats, though we could be looking at a splinter group that's gaining traction," Tseng said. "We're looking into it."

Rufus nodded, looking between them, lips pursed. "You're taking him in?"

"When he's stable," Tseng said, glancing at Reeve.

"Just give me a minute." Reeve accepted the water, smiling tightly. He did his best to pretend his hands weren't shaking, hoping the other two would at least not comment on it. A glance said they were both very aware. "Thank you."

Tseng hummed in quiet acknowledgment, kneeling to clean up the broken glass and mop up the wine. Fortunately, there hadn't been much left. "I don't suppose I could talk you into an hour's nap to sleep some of this off."

It was an odd comment to make, enough that it took Reeve a moment to get it. He met Tseng's eyes, seeing acceptance and  _knowing_  there. Whether or not he understood in detail, he'd put what had happened together. "I…"

"Of course he will," Rufus said. "Unless one of you two cares to explain just what the  _hell_  is going on here and why you think he's going into  _work_  instead of to a  _doctor._ "

Reeve swallowed against a lump of emotion, looking down at his hands.

"I can wait all night, gentlemen," Rufus said, in that particular  _tone_  that said they damn well better not keep him waiting.

Reeve swallowed hard, raking a hand back through his hair. Blew out a quiet breath. "I…" Odin, he had to say it, didn't he? He hadn't even talked about it to his own mother, a secret he'd kept to himself his whole life. A nervous thrill ran through him and he shivered slightly. Rufus was watching him expectantly. "I can feel the reactors."

Rufus was silent a long moment, processing that. " _Feel_  the reactors?"

"There's a bond," he said quietly, not looking at either of them. "A connection. I'm aware of their energy, their status..."

"Which would explain why you collapsed at the time of the bombing," Tseng said quietly.

"I can't help but notice a lack of  _surprise_  on your part," Rufus observed.

"I've had my suspicions for a while now," Tseng admitted. "But I didn't ask. There are times ignorance is safer for all involved."

"Ironic, coming from you," Rufus said. He crossed his arms, frowning deeply. "And you think after that you're up for going in? How long does it last?"

"Too long to just take off."  _Days,_  he'd been ill for days after losing Gongaga's reactor, and that was before he had a proper bond. He still wasn't sure he wouldn't be sick if he moved too quickly. "But I can do this. It's bearable. I just need a few minutes."

"You'll forgive my skepticism," Rufus said dryly. "You look like hell."

"I feel like it," Reeve admitted, running a hand back through his hair. "But I can't… I can't just leave that. I  _need_  to be there. If I look a little ragged… well, no one can blame me. This is stressful."

" _Stressful,_ " Rufus repeated. "I thought you were having a heart attack."

"Phantom pains," Reeve said. He was still having them, but the taste of mako had left his mouth, and while they were still intense there was a certain amount of numbness from the horror of it all that he was perfectly willing to exploit. Anything to get him out there, where he could start trying to manage things. "It's… hard to explain. But I'll be alright. Really."

"Hn. Look in the mirror before you tell me that," Rufus muttered, dissatisfied, and looked to Tseng. "You'll stay with him."

That wasn't a suggestion, but odds were good Tseng had already been planning as much. "Of course."

"Good." Rufus sighed. "I suppose I'd better see how the old man's taking it. AVALANCHE again, gods. They don't know when to quit."

"After all this time, I'm a bit suspicious. I wouldn't be so quick as to say they're the same organization, with their old leaders dead," Tseng said. "Again, copycats do happen. They might be trying to take advantage of the reputation that comes with the name."

"Perhaps. Let me know what you find," Rufus said. He tensed when Reeve carefully got to his feet, but didn't try to stop him, even when he swayed a little. "Dizzy?"

"Drained," he corrected, though there was  _some_ dizziness. He knew it was just from how utterly exhausted his system was. "I'm going to go change, I'll be ready to go soon. Someone take the lasagna out of the oven, please."

"I'll get it." Rufus walked past him, heading for the kitchen.

Tseng shared a tight smile with Reeve, inclining his head slightly. "If you're sure."

"I have to do this." There were no alternatives. If it was physically possible, he  _needed_  to be there. And it was. Reeve offered a small smile back, hopefully reassuring, and carefully went to change.

There was something about slipping his suit on that helped, some conditioning that demanded a certain headspace and behavior, appearances he'd trained himself into as a teenager that had only polished with time.

Reeve headed back to the bathroom to get a look at himself, smiling wryly to see what had alarmed Rufus so. It was a sight he'd seen before, ghostly pale with almost bruised shadows under his eyes, pain and exhaustion digging deep lines around them and his mouth. It would be a few hours at best before those would ease up, but he couldn't afford to wait for it.

He came back out, absently adjusting his cuffs for something to do with his hands. "Ready?"

"Rufus is putting together some dinners to take with us," Tseng said. "But then, yes."

Reeve couldn't help a small laugh, shaking his head. But he understood it; Rufus needed to help, and there was only so much he could do. Their masks were about to come back on, separation of stations dividing them once again. He didn't have the flexibility Tseng did, to go between them, and wouldn't be satisfied with what little he could do. If he could keep the president off Reeve's back while he cleaned up the worst of it, though, Reeve would consider it a minor miracle.

"And you  _will_  eat it," Rufus informed him, having apparently located appropriate containers to put individual servings of the lasagna into.

"Just let my stomach settle first, and I will," Reeve assured him, touched by the gesture. "Shall we?"

"I can drive myself back. Let Tseng take you," Rufus said.

Tseng was already nodding, holding his hand out for the keys. Reeve smiled wryly, but handed them over. "You always drive."

"Then there shouldn't be a problem." Tseng smiled, nodding to the door. "After you."

 

* * *

 

Reeve had been awake going on forty hours when they got the call that a small group had infiltrated Reactor No. 5. They knew this, because  _naturally_  he'd increased security. He'd even gotten troops called out to double up shifts, for this  _exact_  reason. It was a team of three, there was no reason to think they couldn't be handled, no reason for another disaster.

" _Sir, the troops pulled out toward the exit…. No sir, they appear to be waiting for something._ "

A terrible sense of foreboding chilled Reeve to the core, and he went straight for the president's office. This wasn't Heidegger's doing, Heidegger would shoot anything that breathed wrong. The order to wait could only come from higher up.

He got a call in the elevator, and wouldn't have answered if it hadn't been Tseng. "What?"

"I need you to go home," Tseng said.

"Tseng, there are people in my reactor —"

"I know." And Odin's lance, but the heaviness in his tone made his gut clench. "Go home, Reeve."

"But —"

"Rufus will meet you there and explain," Tseng said quietly. "I can't stay on the phone.  _Please,_  go home."

Reeve swallowed hard. "Tell me someone's going to stop them, Tseng."

Silence. Utter damning  _silence._  Then, "I'm sorry, I have to go. Rufus will be waiting for you."

Reeve listened to the dial tone and resisted the urge to swear and throw his phone. He held it tightly, staring at the dark screen, then smacked the emergency stop button, staggering slightly when the elevator came to an abrupt halt. He caught himself against the glass, a palm on the cool surface as he stared out across his city. Tension coiled in his gut, almost painful dread, and he made himself turn. Pushed the button for the garage level. Watched the floors go down, taking him further from the President's office, until it dinged and he had to force himself to leave, to go to his car and get in and drive away. Because Tseng told him to.

And sounded so damned  _sorry_  about it.

His eyes burned, but he was driving on automatic anyway, heading up to his penthouse. Rufus was, in fact, waiting for him inside, seated on his couch with a glass of what was quite possibly scotch. His expression was as bland as could be, but his eyes were chips of ice, absolute  _fury_  just checked by his iron control. "Reeve."

"Rufus." He hadn't brought anything with him, hadn't stopped to even grab a tablet. He closed the door instead of thinking about it, watching Rufus. "What's going on?"

"The president," Rufus said, and Reeve could always tell how angry Rufus was when he refused to acknowledge his father, "has decided to let AVALANCHE blow themselves up."

Even having somewhat expected it, Reeve still went cold to  _hear_  it. To have it confirmed so bluntly. "He can't be authorizing that much damage! We had  _massive_ civilian casualties and I'm not even sure we have the full count from the damages done to Reactor One!"

"I know." Rufus took in a deep breath, letting it out again and tossing back the rest of his drink. "He wants to ruin them. Not just make sure they're dead, but make sure everyone  _hates_  them, that there's no more legacy to come back to."

Reeve made a small sound, hands curling into fists. "He's going to let them blow the reactor."

"Yes."

"To kill  _three people,_ " Reeve said. He could feel himself starting to shake. The president had taken extreme measures to deal with terrorists before, but  _this…_  he couldn't fathom it. Even ignoring the inevitable casualties, losing another reactor would put strain on the remaining seven. They were already working overtime to make up for the loss of Reactor No. 1.

Rufus smiled mirthlessly, perhaps the only person who could completely understand Reeve's outrage. It was his city, too. "He wouldn't listen to anything I had to say. As far as he's concerned, I should still be in house arrest in Junon. I haven't even gotten my voice back on the board and he wants me out of headquarters."

 _I tried,_  unspoken and just as painful as if he'd actually said it. Of course Rufus had tried. Never mind his connections to the first AVALANCHE, he'd never supported them trying anything in his city. There were lines drawn, and this blew right past.

But of course the President didn't care. He hadn't cared for a long time, ever since he'd gotten obsessed with his plans for Neo Midgar, and Hojo's supposed 'Promised Land.'

"There's nothing we can do?" Reeve said, knowing the truth of it and  _still_  hoping he was wrong somehow.

"Nothing." Rufus sighed, lips pursed a moment. "Can you cut your connection to the reactor?"

 _Of course._  It clicked, suddenly, why Tseng wanted him home. Why Rufus was waiting for him. Reeve swallowed tense laughter, shaking his head. "No. No, there's nothing I can do without killing it myself."

Rufus frowned. "Can you do that from here?"

He understood the question, he understood that of course Rufus' priority was Reeve himself, not the questionable 'life' of a machine that he couldn't begin to truly grasp. And yet it still made him feel ill to contemplate it. To think of snuffing out the life he'd given it. "I… no, I'd have to be there. I have to make contact."

"Then you should probably lay down," Rufus said. "By now they have to have planted the bomb."

Reeve closed his eyes, dragging in a shaky breath, a sick feeling knotting up his stomach. "I need to call back in and have a remote shutdown. I can't stop them from blowing it up, but I can at least minimize the damage and protect the Plate."

"Be quick, then," Rufus said. "You're running out of time."

Reeve nodded, digging out his phone and calling in. There was no good way to say it, no way to ease into ' _the President is letting them blow up one of our reactors'_  and no way he could even begin to ease the horror the others felt, not when he was still reeling himself. But he was doing what little he could. They could shift over the bulk of the power supply, pulling from Four and Six. Sector Five was primarily residential, there were no hospitals to worry about - if power went out for a bit, it wouldn't be life ending. But he still wanted to avoid that as much as he could. The shutdown would hopefully limit how big of an explosion there was.

And then it was just a waiting game.

"You should lay down," Rufus said quietly. "I'll come with you."

Reeve nodded slowly, thumb brushing over his phone. There was nothing else he could do. He rose slowly, and headed back for his bedroom, Rufus following along behind him and waiting by the bed as Reeve laid on his back. He stared blankly at the ceiling, trying not to think about what was about to happen.

This time, when the pain hit, it was  _worse._

Reeve jackknifed up off the bed with a strangled shout, falling back down to the mattress and writhing in pain. The anticipation hadn't braced him, and the weakness from having suffered the first bombing within a day left him with no reserves to fight. He twisted onto his side, hissing a harsh breath between clenched teeth and trying not to hyperventilate. The one advantage he had was understanding what was happening, a lack of panic even as pain continued to wrack his body.

It felt like an eternity passed before it started to fade, leaving him dizzy and exhausted. There was a hand brushing back through his hair, and he looked up blearily to see Rufus watching him. His mouth opened, but he couldn't manage words yet, only a hoarse wheeze escaping.

Rufus' lips quirked into the faintest smile. "Don't push. Just rest."

Reeve nodded weakly, letting his eyes close like they wanted to. The worst was over now. It was just a matter of scraping himself together to go pick up the pieces.

"Don't you even  _think_  about going back yet," Rufus said, a note of steel in his voice. "This time you  _will_  rest."

"Yessir," he managed, a shadow of a smile on his lips.

Rufus huffed softly, but there was a hint of an answering smile in his voice. "Trouble."

Reeve hummed in tired agreement, laying limp on the bed. He'd rest for now. Get his strength up for the inevitable confrontation with the president. He wasn't so foolish as to think he had the power to even begin to censure him, it was a dangerous game to play, but he could at least try to prevent such drastic measures in the future. AVALANCHE was threat enough; ShinRa was supposed to  _protect_  Midgar. He'd do everything he could to keep his city together until Rufus could take over.

Hopefully, that would be enough.

**Author's Note:**

> The idea behind this is that Reeve, as an Inspire, can give levels of awareness and life to anything he interacts with. The greatest example is Cait Sith, but the premise here is that he's also created a bond with the reactors as well to monitor them in hopes of preventing a meltdown like Gongaga's. The destruction of any of them has a certain level of psychic backlash, as you see in the story.


End file.
